A Suicidal Worm
by DapplesNotSpots
Summary: After hundreds of failed suicide attempts, Verme Fina decides to take the low-road and run away from her responsibilities. However, her plans take a turn for the worse when she lands smack-dab in the middle of the Vongola family. GokuderaXOC
1. Chapter 1

I can't remember the last time I was_ warm_. I can't honestly place a finger on the last moments I felt truly loved. Or even acknowledged. For fourteen years straight I've been completely cut off from maternal love, paternal love, and really love in any nature. I've been told to keep quiet and do my job like a 'good girl' for over a decade. And I have. I've never once complained or disobeyed or misbehaved in any way. I simply carry out my mission and destroy the target I've been assigned to. But, as the years progress, I find myself beginning to fail. Not in killing, it's too natural for me to mess up, it's almost like the most basic of my instincts, I've never once not been able to succeed in bringing death. I'm failing in more important regions. I'm failing at living up to my expectations. I am the heir to the Fina family.

And I am undoubtedly the worst leader in the world. My father already hates me for being a woman and my mother is too busy having an affair with her bodyguard to give me even a slight nod in the right direction. Basically, I'm _completely and totally_, _one hundred percent_, _no question of it_, **fucked**. And because of that, I'll be killed the second I take my throne. I know everything there is to know about killing, it's my livelihood and my only true passion, but leading and planning and plotting are blank spots in my mind. I don't have any friends in the 'business' due to being cut off from life so I'm really pretty torn up in the expectation department. I'll never be 'Spitfire Fiammetta' like my parents want me to; I'll only ever live to be known as 'Verme' in their eyes. I'll only ever live to be a worm. And, as if I didn't feel bad enough on my own, my parents had legally changed my name to Verme do I would learn my lesson. They say they'll call me Fiametta again when I've earned it, but until then I'll remain Verme.

And it's not just to my parents either, they managed to spread word to the others who hire me and now I'm known as 'Codardo Verme', the Coward Worm. So, instead of doing the brave thing and killing my parents, I simply ran away like the coward worm I am. But I'm such a high breed of cowardice that I didn't just run off to another town, I ran to another world. One where no one would ever find me. I tried to kill myself. I slit my wrists straight down the middle and stuck them underwater. This all would have been fine and dandy, had I not failed. Apparently, I didn't cut deep enough because when I got to the hospital, they stitched me like a quilt and sent me home. I was told that was impossible, but I guess not. So I tried again. This time, I shot myself in the heart. Or so I thought. Apparently, I've got a special condition where my heart is on the other side of my ribcage so I really just have myself a sucking chest wound. So I tried again. Over and over and over again until I discovered I'm invincible. Apparently, I'm Superman and nothing but kryptonite can kill me.

Wouldn't that be a fairytale, huh? You'd think I'd be overjoyed by the fact that I've tried over a hundred things and none of them succeed in destroying my life force. But I'm not. Because the last thing I ever want to do is lead a family. So I'll run. I'll run until my legs break and my feet bleed. I'll run until I die.

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><p><em><strong>A strange little prologue I got inspired to type up last night~ Sort of a writer's block thing-a-majig, though I am hoping to make a story out of it! Review and thanks for reading, mooncalves!<strong>_

_**~DNS**_


	2. Chapter 2

"Codardo Verme? Is that correct?" a rather elderly teacher fussed over the paper in front of him. He looked to be around sixty, either about to retire of die, I couldn't tell. I was in no mood to discuss the life of an old guy. I was just about ready to set the room on fire but I'd refrain. If I made myself a most wanted criminal right of the bat I'd miss Japan's wonderful selection of fish. Which I hated. Fuck, it might have been worth it to set the whole country on fire. But that would be a dead give away to my identity. Surprisingly enough, keeping my name as Verme was quite the genius move. My family knew I hated the label more than anything and that I'd destroy an entire continent just to change it. But, then again, an Italian girl sticks out like a sore thumb in Japan. I hated this already. I'd spent over a day on a plane what with all the delays and runway congestion in the most uncomfortable clothing that existed just to be sent to a world of technology and short people, who still towered over me much to my resent.

It was the farthest most populated place I could think to go to but I was still easily recognized as different. I had hair roughly the same shade as blood and eyes that had been specially engineered to maintain a scarlet tint. My family's doctor happened to be somewhat of a medical genius and I'd been slaved over like a feast in the womb to make sure I could perfectly represent the Finas. And, I did. When one looked at me, they immediately thought of fire. Or at least my parents liked to think that, really it was more a 'Look at that freak' and then a short scoff. The second I got out of this dreaded school I'd dye it black and chop it all off. I'd buy myself a pair of brown contact lenses and make a new identity.

"No... That's just my nickname. I'm... Panda Orso?" I wanted to die the moment the words left my mouth. Exactly how stupid was I? My name was now Panda Bear instead of Coward Worm, how fucking fantastic. Glad to know the Finas missed having such a genius boss. I simply wasn't cut out for such a job; I was never destined for such huge responsibility. The simple pressure of killing someone was nothing compared to ruling over throngs of important men and women and having to make painstaking decisions for the well-being of my family. No, I'd much rather die a runaway than a mafia don. Even if it meant I had to be a panda for the rest of my life it was better than being a flame. I looked at the file beneath my toes, the feeling of a thousand eyes digging into my chest. A part of me hoped they were glaring straight at me, but the decent majority of my mind wished them to be staring through me and at the notes on the whiteboard. There was a tiny chunk of me that enjoyed attention and intensity, but it was far overtaken by the part that compelled me into the shadows. I knew a few people who loved being gawked at; however, I'd never learned anything from them. I was in no way mafia material.

The teacher gave me a confused glance, as if to say 'You're name's Panda? Seriously?' so I marched to my seat to avoid actually being asked that. I had been positioned in a desk next to a very smiley boy with spiked black hair. He looked amazingly airy, as if distracted by nothing but also everything. I still wanted to die. In fact, I wanted to kill myself now more than ever. But it would always be a fruitless endeavor what with my invincibility and all. Surprise everyone! I'm Jesus! I must be to be able to survive all the shit I've done to myself. One look at my wrists would make the strongest man lose his lunch. Every inch of me is covered in scars, the most noticeable of which being the gnarled remains of a slit throat. How does one live through having their throat slit with a straight razor?

Their name is Codardo Verme, or now Panda Orso. I've even attempted the ancient Japanese form of suicide; I tried to cut my entrails out with a sword. But that only ended in a two month, medically induced coma and me receiving some dead chick's liver and a piece of her intestines. She was a suicide victim; she actually died instead of just forcing her body further down the shitter like me. I jumped off a building once and escaped with nothing more than a gash because of a conveniently placed garbage truck. I'm the luckiest person when it comes to dying which means I'm completely unlucky. It's like good fortune is just fucking with me for the sake of entertainment. I've lived through things that would kill a cockroach, true story.

And, right now, that open window is giving hope to the hopeless. No garbage trucks, no dumpsters, just cold, hard cement. If I go head-first I'll die! And then I won't have to run anymore. I won't have to put knives in toasters and shove forks in electrical sockets anymore, I won't have to slit my wrists again or cut the femoral artery a second time. I'll be dead and no one will ever be able to force me to have responsibilities again! No, I couldn't let myself fall for it the billionth time. I'd just jump out the window and break my arm or snap my leg and give myself a nasty concussion. But the weaker I make my body, the less it can withstand. It would definitely be worth it, right? Of course. Then, in the hospital, I can electrocute myself or overdose on something in one of the medicine supply rooms. Maybe I'm just a bit smarter than I give myself credit for! I could feel a smile creep across my cheeks. This would work perfectly. I'd probably die upon impact anyway! I stood from my desk with a strange sense of bravery and valiance. Relief, most of all, because I'd never have to look at another fire again if I did this. The spikes haired male gave me a strange look and I thought maybe the teacher said something. But who fucking cared? I was going to be dead soon enough. Ha! I climbed up on the sill, pushing the glass further open to see the rainy day just in front of me.

And, despite the loud screeches that attempted to discourage me, I threw my body out into the chilled reality.

Only to find that I'd lied.

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><p><em><strong>Well, well. I finally got my shit together and managed to put this out here! Maybe I would have been more inclined to finish with more reviews *coughcough*. Sorry for the shortness as well, maybe they'd be longer if I had some inspiration *coughcough*. X3 Just kidding(Not at all joking), thanks for even reading this! Leave some love, mooncalves! <strong>_

_**~DNS**_


	3. Chapter 3

_"How many people have you run from today, Codardo?" they were at it again. For the millionth time that day. They started advancing on me like a pack of starving wolves, pressing me up against a brick wall and forming a circle._

_"Yeah, you little worm! How many people have you betrayed?"_

_"Did you finally crawl out of the ground to die?"_

_"Or will you just be a stupid pest the rest of your life?"_

_"Aww, is the little vermin going to cry?"_

_"You know what... Why don't we make this little worm squirm?" that seemed to do it. What began as a silly, grade school bullying session would now be assault and battery. As expected. Everyone here had always hated me, to the point of forming an anti-pest club that involved every student except me. The teachers never did anything other than teach the kids the best pressure points to hit and the sure-fire techniques of keeping someone alive after beating them snotless. Sometimes it even budded into a lesson on lying and how to avoid the police. A few weeks ago I had managed to convince myself the kids were only hurting me for the extra teachings. But then I realized they were doing it for the exact reason they said they were. I was a cowardly worm with no hope of ever being anything other than a pest. Seven of the third graders in my class have tried to kill me and many of the older kids, especially the middle schoolers for some odd reason, are constantly picking on me._

_It comes as no surprise, though. I betrayed my family's greatest ally, shy away from every fight, and try my absolute best to hide from the other kids at lunch and recess. But my tiny pea of a brain keeps me from ever concealing myself enough to not be seen and thus I get stuck in positions exactly like my current one. And my predicament now is the fact I'm about to be terrorized by Superbi Squalo once again. He's undoubtedly the meanest middle schooler I've ever met. He doesn't find any shame in destroying the body and esteem of an eight year old girl. As if I had any esteem to begin with. I watched the silver haired male step forwards. He and his favorite team of evil children. I didn't know any of their names or ages, but they all seemed to enjoy playing Kick the Coward. Honestly, who in this school didn't? Everyone I met, no matter how familiar, gave me a stern punch in the chest and a look as if I'd just killed their first born son. I was the Forever Alone poster child. And there was nothing I could do about it. My parents had ruined my reputation and the family I betrayed, no name mentioned, had spread such vulgar rumors I'd been a prime target for assassins of all kinds. But, no matter how hard I wished, no one was ever able to carry out the kill._

_"You're a disgrace to mafia world and all its members." a stern, black haired boy spat on the ground in front of me. Nothing new there. I started inching my way backwards, reaching to the small basement window the only someone as tiny as I, who was deprived of most food as punishment at home, could possibly fit through. They advanced sharply, staring at me with frenzied glares and baring their teeth in a collection of craggle-toothed grins. I'd be a coward again. I'd be a coward because I wasn't strong enough to face anyone. I'd slip through the window and disappear for the rest of the day until I got too hungry to stay hidden and came out to make a speedy escape home. The life of a coward was, quite possibly, harder than that of a fighter. Once a fighter is established, she isn't taken on by everyone and anyone. But, once a coward appears, she's attacked by even that which can't move. I can tell you all this as someone who's spent their entire life running from responsibility._

_"And beating up an eight year old for being scared isn't a disgrace?" that was the first time I ever stood up for myself, even just a tiny bit. And the cavalry was called in like I'd caused a second Holocaust. My plan to slip through the window was immediately terminated as Squalo's grunts attached themselves viciously to my arms and legs and began trying to tear me apart. The rest of it was a blur. But I do recall drifting away in absolute agony. Though it is all I've let myself remember from back then._

The sadly familiar chime of heart monitors rang through my head. Of course. Panda, who was obviously secretly Jesus, had risen from the grave again. Must be Easter. I wanted to die. But apparently that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. I wasn't sure I was fully invincible, but I knew one thing with absolute positivity. I was a fucking dumbass. Now not only did I have to avoid my own people, but also the children who went to Namimori who would undoubtedly question my choices like it was their business. I had a feeling my new school would be just like the old one. Except without the mafia. Hopefully. I did have to say it was fantastic I'd be free of that asshole Superbi Shark or whatever the fuck his name was. God he'd been a bastard to me, and we weren't even in the same grade! He just liked to pick on me and yell strange things. Just thinking about him made my ears ring. I grumbled, turning over in my lovely hospital bed and landing on two freshly added casts. Broken arm and broken leg, from what I could tell. There was certainly a hefty amount of bruising and my head sort of felt like the animal I'd renamed myself for was sitting on it. I was such an insanely high level idiocy I named myself Panda, didn't I? Oh well, at least it would keep my family away. No matter how UN-optimistic I am, I manage to be positive sometimes.

I decided it might be a good idea to increase my morphine, as the dose they'd given me was obviously not enough. For someone who's spent more time in the hospital than anyone else in current existence, I have a fantastically low pain threshold. Somewhere inside, I knew there was no chance of me breaking into the machine, but that wasn't my concern. I couldn't really be bothered to do anything but glare at the weird little panel on my IV that stared back at me with soft, brown eyes. How sweet. Wait, there's something wrong with that isn't there? Yeah, those machines don't normally have eyes, do they? It'd be awesome if they did though, then I could go back to sleep. Instead of having to figure out what was peering into my soul.

"Are you awake?" the eyes were joined by a mouth which was in turn joined by a set of words. I turned away and shut my own eyes.

"No, pandas don't really ever wake up." I grumbled, in no mood to be bothered. Especially because the tone of my roommates voice was amazingly overjoyed. And I sort of disliked joy. I couldn't have my own, so I wasn't super happy about other people's. It made me angry, to be perfectly honest.

"Ha! You're funny!" that made me furious, or at least as furious as someone completely doped up on drugs could get. I wasn't funny, I was decently depressed. Sort of. Shit, I didn't really know what my mental status was. All I wanted was to be done with all this 'life' stuff. Or, really, all this mafia shit. If I wasn't born to a family of bloodthirsty Mafiosi, I would be a happy little Italian girl. Ah, I could picture it now. I wouldn't have so many scars on my skin and pins in my bones; I'd lead a happy life. Happy.

"Who are you?" I flipped my body over a second time. The eyes seemed to belong to a face, strangely enough, and that face belonged to a neck which belonged to a torso and eventually a pair of legs. In truth, the set of body parts was quite attractive. His face was extremely sweet, as if God had made a mistake an dumped far too much kindness into the blender when making whoever this child was. I assume blenders are used in the process of making children. Though it is helplessly sad and concerning and weird, I don't know where children come from. My parents never told me so it's not like it's my fault, I haven't had time to Google it or anything, not to mention I'm horrified of what I might see. Looking that up should probably be some sort of priority in my life, though...

"Oh, I'm Takeshi Yamamoto." he smiled, holding a hand out for me to shake it. I gave him a blank stare. He withdrew.

"Why are you here?" I mumbled, rubbing both hands furiously over my face. That only messed up my eyebrows and made my eyes feel screwy. It wasn't like I was upset about that, though, I wasn't quite worried about looking my sexiest after a few days in the hospital. They only give the comatose patients a sponge bath, judging by how horrid I smell, and I've simply been drifting in and out for the past forty-eight hours. Morphine is a Hell of a drug. Not to mention I'd get Vicodin for the pain, maybe even some OxyContin. All I cared about was getting some reprise from my new runaway life.

"I saw you fall out the window and I got nervous." he grinned. Why did he care? He'd never even met me yet he was in my hospital room? It looked like he'd brought flowers, too. Actually, a lot of people had brought flowers and chocolates and get well cards. This was a predicament. People at Namimori were nice, meaning they'd want to be my friend. But that wasn't the main issue, I was truly upset about them saying I'd fallen. Was that the rumor there? That I'd just magically fallen out an open window? It was suicide and I want everyone to know that! Anyone who witnessed it firsthand would know I jumped. So why was the spiky haired boy pretending I'd fallen? I remembered even seeing him try to grab me and pull me back inside. Maybe my cocaine brain wasn't serving my memory well, though, I'd done a lot of drugs back in Italy and things were fuzzy most of the time.

"Well... Thank you?" I raised a questioning eyebrow. I was such an idiot. Who says thank you like it a question? Thank you is a statement, stupid Coward Worm.

"Ha! It's no problem; a lot of the kids at school were worried about you. They think it was a suicide attempt! Is there anything I can do-" he began, being silenced sharply by my own crackly voice.

"You could help me into my wheelchair. That is certainly something you could do." I chopped his kind words in half with a statement of sheer idiocy. At this point, I was used to being stupid. I'd just lay back and take it, as dirty as that sounds. Yamamoto nodded excitedly, pushing the wheelchair that had been stashed in the corner next to my bed. He wrapped both arms around my stomach and lifted me up like a rag doll. Either I'd lost weight or this child was strong. I was then placed, rather softly, in a lovely red seat. He was so nice. It was weird. Why did he care? I shifted in my seat, gripping my IV stand and wheeling it next to me. Had I died? The thought sort of jumped out of nowhere, but had I actually died? Had I finally been successful? It didn't seem like I was dead and, judging from all the stuff I'd done, I would end up in Hell. This didn't seem right, though, something about this child was wrong. Not sinister, per say, but certainly different. Annoying different. I sort of wanted to slap him.

And then, in my drugged stupor, I realized something. Nobody here had any idea who I was. Of course, then I felt like an idiot for feeling like I hadn't known that before. But I suppose this was the first time it truly hit me. All these Namimori kids were completely clueless as to my reputation. They didn't know I was a tiny pest that ran from every foreseeable threat like a jackrabbit. They just thought I was a weird little girl. I'd spread the rumor my parents died and I was depressed so I tried to kill myself a few times but that I was over all of that. They would be completely oblivious to the fact I wasn't! Maybe it was the disgusting amount of painkillers coursing through me, maybe it was the fact someone had actually helped me. All I knew for sure was that I didn't instinctively try to run from this problem. Instead I decided, right then and there, that I'd solve it. Though, honestly, solving it probably meant I'd live in horror for a few weeks and fly to another even remoter country. But only time would tell if my suspicion was correct or not.

And I believed that all my time should have been spent on one thing. Gaining my first friends. Because if my family came to find me I'd need a good resource of people for protection.

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><p><em><strong>Finally got my shit together and ended this hiatus~ Sorry for the time, I've just been super busy with school and STAR testing and all that shit. Anyway! I thought I'd pick back up with a little insight into the past and the introduction of the greatest mafia airhead ever~ Hopefully you people enjoyed. NOW REVIEW BEFORE I BURN YOU. Or use the Falcon Punch, whichever comes first. Thanks for reading, mooncalves! Toodles!<strong>_

**_~DNS_**


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